Ally's POV

Again, he is fucking another woman.

"Easy, Dawn," I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped in my lap, trying to soothe my wolf.

Nathan, our mate, and our tormentor, has laid with another tonight. Not for the first time. It's a betrayal that slices through us.

"Ally," Dawn's voice falters in my thoughts, "Why does his betrayal cut so deep?"

I press a hand against the glass, the chill seeping into my skin. "I don't know," I whisper back, my voice barely audible even to myself.

And then, it's as if the floodgates open, and the despair we've been holding back crashes over us. For a moment, it feels as if I'm drowning. My knees buckle, and I slide down against the windowpane, the sobs tearing from my throat echoing Dawn's mournful cries within. One thing brings me calm though.

I trace the outline of my belly, the gentle swell a reminder of the life Nathan and I created.

"Little one," I murmur, "I'm here, I promise."

Memories wash over me relentlessly. Two years ago, I stood by Nathan's side, a bride cloaked in white, my heart brimming with naive hope. That first night, though, he shattered all illusions of tenderness. His touch, meant to be loving, was a force that bruised my flesh and spirit alike. The pain, the humiliation- it imprinted on me, leaving me to face it every day.

"Ally," Dawn growls softly, her voice a threadbare whisper of resilience. "We have to keep going."

"I know," I reply, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. Keep going, keep going, it'd all I can focus on, it gets me through every insult I have to swallow, every tear I have to hide. With Nathan's true nature hidden behind a mask of regality, I'm left bearing the weight of his true self.

Months have turned into years, and now, with our baby growing within me, Nathan has lost all interest and finds his pleasure in others. I've become accustomed to the scents of different she-wolves, the scents that linger long after he's returned to our bed.

"We have to survive Ally. Our cub needs us strong," her voice barely a whisper.

I sit in the darkness of our room, the silence punctuated only by my ragged breaths. The portraits on the walls stared down at me, mocking me. I rise slowly, the motion deliberate, borrowing all the strength I can from having to survive. Each step I take is a silent reminder of the resilience that has been forced upon me.

"I have to be strong," I whisper, "For my child."

The door creaks open, and a sliver of light pierces through the darkness, announcing his presence. Nathan's shadow looms over me as he stands on the threshold, the familiar scent of power and rage clinging to him like a second skin.

"Ally," his voice rumbles- a low command that chills my blood. I feel him before I see him, the weight of his desire pressing down on me. My name is not a term of endearment but a method of summoning, he wishes to be served.

"Yes, Nathan?" My voice barely rises above a whisper, a shaky note betraying my nervousness.

"Come here." The order allows for no argument, and I push myself off the bed, my limbs heavy with fear. Dawn whimpers inside my mind, her pain mingling with mine, a twisted harmony of suffering.

The scent hits me as I approach- the acrid sweetness of another woman's perfume, it's sweet almost like wildflowers, a reminder of his betrayal. It wraps around Nathan like a fog, and I fight back the bile rising in my throat.

"Kneel," he instructs, and I comply, the cold floor biting into my knees. He steps forward, and his scent engulfs me, the stench of infidelity suffocating me. I don't need to look up at him; I know the usual look of smug satisfaction is etched on his face.

"Open your mouth." His words are soft, but they carry a threat of violence, a promise that has been fulfilled many times before. Obediently, I part my lips, and he guides himself to my mouth, a grim ritual played out in silence.

I close my eyes to fight against the revulsion that claws at my insides, trying to focus on anything but the taste of him- anything but the scent of that woman. I can almost see her, a pale image woven from the threads of fragrance and sin, her laughter echoing in my hollow heart.

"Good girl," Nathan murmurs, the twisted praise a knife to my already defeated spirit. I keep going, my movements are mechanical, the act a mere transaction.

"Who is she?" Dawn's question is a silent howl within me, but I refuse to say it out loud. To acknowledge the other women would mean we would have to admit that we are less than nothing to the man who vowed to cherish us.

"Focus, Ally," I tell myself, my mantra to survive this moment and all the moments that will inevitably follow.

"Enough," Nathan finally says, pulling away with a satisfied grunt. He doesn't see the tears that I blink back. He doesn't care for the hollow ache he leaves behind. He turns and walks away, leaving me on my knees, a discarded plaything on the floor of the room that once signified our love.